Cutting It Close
by pestival
Summary: Episode-Tag for 3x14 "Father Bride Betrayal" - AU - Just what if Mac needed more than two drops of blood?


Hey, it's been literal years since I wrote something on here, especially in english. But this plot bunny was bothering me for days and then I gave in. So, you might have guessed that english isn't my native language. Please be nice. Maybe I'll write a second part, who knows. Have fun!

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Even before the mission started, his head had been in a bad place. Jack telling him, that he had been ordered to lead the search for Tiberius, was a great honor and he thought his partner was more than capable for this job, but – _they would not be working together any longer._

At first Mac thought it was another ploy of his father, then his mind was running with the thought that Jack and he needed some distance – like him running away a few months back. That Jack wanted him to feel the same he did back then. But the logical voice in his head told him how stupid he was.

Jack was leaving him, and he could do nothing about it at all but telling Jack to stay. And Mac didn't want to do that either. Because he knew, if he ever uttered those words, Jack would abandon everything else. He was loyal to such a fault.

At least the wedding and the mission took his mind of the chaotic thoughts in his head. Whispering with dark voices; that everybody was going to leave him someday.

That worked well enough, until he went through the door and found Riley unconscious on the floor. The shock of seeing her motionless, tossed away like some trash- made all those doubts come back. Was she leaving him to? _Was he leaving her?_

'_Oh no, no, no_!' as fast as possible he was at her side, checking if she was still alive. Then came some relief, but the panic in his voice was still present.

"She is barely breathing!" '_Well_, _better than nothing,_' he tried to reassure himself. Panic was the last thing he needed right now '_now, what to do_?".

Carefully he put his arms under her und lifted her up. At first, he wanted to take Riley to the First-Aid-Room this place surely must have, but there was not time, so the next best thing had to do it. The _kitchen_. Putting her down slowly onto the metal surface of one of the tables, he took a step back.

"Seriously?"

The disbelieving voice of Jack in his ear made him of his team aware again. Mac had forgotten them for a moment. '_Okay, breathe._' he told himself. The kitchen was filled with the smell of spices and reminded of home.

"You can help her, right?", the hope and concern were unmistakably clear in Mattys voice.

His brain was already working in overdrive to find a way to save her. He knew how to make an antidote; the recipe was clear in his head. Now he only needed-

"Yeah, I just need to gather a few things."

Running around the room, taking a pan from the rack, snatching a bottle of tile cleaner, searching trough those white boxes, looking up – _finally_ finding a medicine cabinet with Hydrogen Peroxide in it, was the _easy parts_.

"Mac, please tell me that banging means you found everything you need?"  
Bozer was scared, and he could understand how the others must be feeling, only able to listen through their earpieces, not knowing if she will pull through.

He loathed it. Not being able to do anything. So, the next part, the _harder part_, was almost easier.

"I have,", Mac looked down, double checking the items before him, "everything except one thing."

He pulls out his trusted red knife. '_It's almost strange_,' Mac thought, just this morning he had sharpened the blade, not knowing that it would soon be an important aspect he would need. Normally he wouldn't do that – that thing was wickedly sharp, even after using it a hundred times, but after waking up this morning he had a foreboding feeling. The urge had been there, but he hadn't acted on it. It's been a long time, since he last used that blade-

Taking a deep breath, mentally preparing for what to come he pulled up his sleeve. His hands trembled.

"Blood.", and _no_, he was _not telling how much_.

There was silence for a few seconds, and he extended the blade from it's hiding place. His gaze travelled to Riley and his determination rose even more.

"Blood?", confusion thick in Matty's voice "Whose blood?"

The best place to make the cut and get enough for the antidote was ironically the wrist. Fist clenched, muscle strained, he-

"Mine."

Sliced the blade in a downwards motion across his wrist, going as deep as he dared and seeing the blood welling up. Holding is arm above the pan, he closes his eyes, his whole body tensed, he is panting over the first wave of pain. _As silent as he could._ Worrying his teammates, was the last thing he wanted to do. Riley was the priority.

'_But, God, does it hurt!', _like a burning prickling sensation on his wrist, that rose in its intensity with every other minute. It was like torture (_and cold memories were trudged up from the deepest parts of his mind_).

"You sure, you know what you are doing?", asked Bozer again.

'_Let's say I'm about fifty percent sure this will work._", Mac would freely admit the biology wasn't his strongest field, or even his favorite.

"Yeah, key to making an antidote to a cyanide poison is…", keeping the constant stream of explanation up was easier than he thought. His voice was steady. To tuck his pain away like that was one of his greatest skills.

Mac only had to reopen the cut another two times, before he had enough together for the next step. Mix, boil and strain.

On the way to the stove he grabbed a dishtowel and wrapped it around the still sluggishly bleeding wound. After the mission finished, he would put a bandage on it. But now, he had other concerns.

Putting everything into a spray bottle and hoping it would work. She would live, he promised her.

Mac would do anything for the people he loved.

And it _worked_! Riley woke up! Still blearily eyed and tired, but away from deaths doorstep.

_But_ she still needed a fully certified medic and with every entrance barricaded, the fastest solution was to find the murderer and be done with everything. Ordering Jack to separate the wedding party from the guests was only the beginning of an idea. On his way to the reception-room he came up with something to find the culprit.

And after telling the bride her grandmother was the killer, the back-up from phoenix finally arrived and took her into custody everybody relaxed, at least a little bit.

Bozer rode with Riley in the ambulance to the hospital and Matty, still directing the clean-up crew, told them to get their asses home. The debriefing could wait until tomorrow.

So, Mac ended up with Jack alone in the car, driving through the night back home to L.A. It was quit, suspiciously quit, and he wanted to ask Jack what was wrong, but the constant rumble of the car lulled him into sleep.

He dreamed of nothing.

"You don't want me to go after Tiberius.", the voice of his partner pulled him away from dreamland. His brain gave a twinge, that turned fast into a heavy throbbing. And he was even more tired than before!

"What?", still not sure, what had been asked. _His brain was hurting._

Jack turned to him, eyes roaming his face for a second, then back on the road.

"You don't like me leaving to search for him."

'_Well no. I want you to stay, I just can't tell you that. It's selfish thinking like that.'_

"Why are you asking?", his voice is guarded, and he knows Jack picked up on it. He sighs.

"Because I know how your brain works. And I know that when something bothers you, those walls are up faster than you can say '_Texas_', kid."

"I'm not angry.", and it's the truth. Mac was feeling everything but anger. Mostly pain from his headache, his wrist was kind of numb right now. He didn't know if he should be thankful for that.

"So, I can leave and everything between us is good?"

Mac keeps his lips pressed together, partly because of the pain and partly because he didn't want to lie.

"I knew it. Just tell me what is bothering you.", Jacks voice was strangely calm, and Mac didn't think that Jack was calm, similar to the moments just before a storm.  
An he could understand that his partner needed to vent a little. Riley and Jack had such a deep connection and those scary moments where it was unclear, if she would wake up, were more than nerve wrecking. Mac took the bait.

"What is bothering _you_? Is this mysterious picture so much worth that you leave everything behind?", his tone was angry and as soon as those words left his mouth, he regretted them.

Jacks knuckles turned white as he clenched the steering wheel.

"I'm leaving everything _behind_?! What about how you left Riley alone to chase this stupid tablet?"

_Oh, that was a low blow_. And it _hurt_.

"Riley is old enough to make her own choices. If she knew that she couldn't do it, she would've said something! She is an agent and she can defend herself, Jack."

"She getting hurt could've been prevented!"

"Risk of getting hurt is part of our job description. And I got her an antidote, didn't I? She's going to be okay."

Jack growled something deep in his throat and Mac rubbed at his forehead. The headache was getting bad.

Suddenly the car stopped, and Jack turned the engine of. Looking up, Mac recognized the apartment building of his friend.

"Why are we here?"

"Because I still don't know why you are distancing yourself, Hoss. Consider yourself officially kidnapped.", Jack was serious.

"That's stupid, Jack! Just drive me home or let me get a cab."

Jack shook his head and opened his door.

"Nor can do. Get up, time for some alcohol and talk."

"Oh, come on!", annoyed, Mac kicked open the door an stood up.

To fast it seemed, because everything swam in and out of focus for a moment. _Why the hell was he so dizzy?_ Grabbing the door, he tried to steady his field of vision.

"You alright there?", looking at his friend, Mac could see the concern in the other's eyes. Then the anger came back.

"Yes.", disgruntled he closed the car door a little harder than adequate and stalked off towards Jacks apartment door.

'_God, why was it so hard to breathe?_' Just climbing the stairs was like running a marathon. Combined with his raging headache and the dizziness he felt like crashing into bed and not waking up for another three days. But Jack kind of destroyed his plans for an early rest _or late rest_, if you look at the clock. '_Great._'

As soon as Jack had opened the door, Mac went straight for the sofa, plopped down and tried to calm his racing heart. The black spots in his vision were taunting him and when Jack hit the light switch, he clenched his eyes shut and tried to keep his stomach contents where they belonged.

"You are dizzy.", it wasn't even a question and Mac squinted at Jack, who stood directly in front of him, arms crossed, like a bear scolding his cub.

"I'm fine."

"Why do I not believe that? Are you hurt? Did one of the thugs get you?", a hand started to cart through his hair and Mac ducked away.

"No, it's just a headache. It's okay."

Jack didn't look exactly satisfied but nodded.

"You want something for that?"

He answered positive and Jack made his way towards the kitchen area. But halfway there, just in front of the front door he stopped. Squinting at something on the floor, he leaned down and examined it.

Mac didn't get much of what Jack was doing, more preoccupied with the headache and _growing_ black spots. _'That was bad, right? Maybe he should've put more concern towards his wrist, because it looked like those symptoms were caused by blood loss._'

"You are _bleeding_!", Jacks surprised outburst brought Mac back to the present. Sluggishly he connected those words in his brain and tried to evade a pissed of Jack stalking in his direction.

"I'm fine, Jack."

"Where?", came the growled response.

Mac made the mistake of allowing his instincts to move his wounded arm away, Jack instantly zeroing in on his wrist.

"Your arm? Why- _oh_, the blood you needed for the antidote. _Show me_.", the command clear in his voice, Mac still tried to evade.

"I. Am. Fine. Let me be.", trying to stand up, was a- phenomenal bad idea? Those black spots became holes the size of universes and with his remaining sight he could see the concerned and panicked face of his friend. Strangely, Jacks mouth was moving, but no sounds reached his ears. '_Where did the sound go?_'

His legs no longer supporting him, he swayed, his thoughts tumbling around then he dived headfirst into the nothingness.

He couldn't have been out long. Maybe a few seconds, half a minute top. No longer standing he was lying flat on a halfway comfy underground. '_A bed?_' The air still smelled like Jacks apartment, so he couldn't have been moved that far.

Hands were on him, checking his pulse, moving through his hair. Then they grabbed his wrist and he made a sound of protest _or_ a whimper. He didn't know.

His ears started to work again, and sound was translated to words- to Jack.

"-ac? Hey, you awake? Come on, open those eyes for me."

'_Eyes? Where they closed? Oh._', blinking, trying to open his heavy eyelids, the dizziness came back full force. Groaning he forced his eyes to stay open. _'God, he was so tired. Couldn't Jack let him sleep?_'

"There you are.", his brain didn't work at full capacity right now, and the only thing he was certain of, was 'Jack' and 'safe'. And that was enough.

"You scared me half to death, kid. Collapsing like that.", the voice sounded falsely calm and Mac asked himself why Jack was scared.

"Mh-m. Stay."

The hands pulled his wrist carefully away from his body. Tucked the sleeve up, he heard, more than he saw Jack cursing, bevor unwrapping the dish towel.

"_God_, kid! You _shredded_ your whole wrist!"

'_Was that bad?_'

"'m ti'ed.", his voice sounded weak even to his own ears, but the pull of the darkness became stronger with every moving second.

"What? Oh _no_. No sleeping allowed. Stay awake, you hear me? Mac?"

But Mac was far to tired to put up a fight, and in his descend towards the darkness he heard the desperate pleas of his best friend begging him to stay.

'_Funny'_, he thought, '_shouldn't our situations be reversed? Him begging Jack to stay?_'


End file.
